


Pond to a Lake

by SenjuMizusaya



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: 5+1 Things, Angst, Coming of Age, F/F, F/M, Feminist Themes, Fluff, Growing Up, Kissing, Partying, Reader-Insert, Romance, Sexual Content, Smut, Sports, Water, and all the pining and hormones that ensue, siblings being siblings, the miyas aren’t the only twins anymore
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:53:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28327113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SenjuMizusaya/pseuds/SenjuMizusaya
Summary: "What do you mean, I'm making things weird?" You asked him, the chill of your words hanging in the air like tiny crystals of ice. Yuu still hadn't glanced up from the volleyball magazine."Just, you know," he shrugged, "going out with guys from others teams makes things awkward."You felt the frigidness of your expression heat into one of fury: "And if I were a guy I'd be given pats on the back for 'getting some', so fuck off." Pettily, you add: "You're a shit twin to have."(Five people you kissed and one you fell in love with, formatted as a long story.)
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Reader, Kuroo Tetsurou/Reader, Miya Atsumu/Reader, Nishinoya Yuu & Reader, Oikawa Tooru/Reader, Tanaka Saeko/Reader, Yachi Hitoka/Reader
Comments: 6
Kudos: 28





	Pond to a Lake

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own Haikyuu.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not telling you who the main one is, you'll have to wait until the very end for that^^ 
> 
> Also, this is a set up chapter. We're establishing the starting point of both the story and main character (aka you), so I'm sorry if it's not the most exciting. Btw, you play a sport which I will try to explain briefly and passingly without going into much detail: you won't need any background knowledge about rules and such since the only important thing is that you’re invested. 
> 
> (Edit: basic rundown is that water polo is played in the water with one ball and two teams who have to out-score the other. Like with any sport, there are various techniques, strategies and positions, though this is where there won’t be any detail.)

_"You're beautiful," came the whisper, breaths ghosting against the bare skin of your shoulder, "beautiful." Lips brushed against your neck. "Beautiful." Against your jawline. "Beautiful."_

_You smiled, tracing those intimately familiar features with the tips of your fingers before pressing a kiss against wet, bruised lips. Your could feel a sigh being smothered, longing in the hands travelling across your back to draw you in tight, warmth in the embrace._

_The final whisper against your collarbone before you pushed your lover onto the mattress was, "please don't ever leave me again."_

.

The water was good, light. The warmups in the swimming pool made that clear within seconds: compared to the one you usually used at school, this one was slightly colder, but the difference was small enough for it to feel like a crystallizing pinch rather than stiffening your muscles. The hall had smelled more of chlorine than you were used to when you'd walked inside with your team, but it didn't bother you. 

These were good conditions. 

You smiled as you kicked your legs harder, feeling the flow of your limbs and satisfying pull of your arm when you pushed it in front of you in the next movement of your front crawl. 

Yes, this water was good. It was easy to swim through, offering little resistance. Some of your teammates experienced a similar thing at times, feeling the weight and inexplicable _thickness_ of the water when you had to travel somewhere for a water polo competition. You hated swimming in heavy waters, yet secretly envied those who always had to do that. For them, every competition would be through such light, silky waters compared to the shitty swimming pool they used. Maybe it had something to do with an altitude difference or concentration of chlorine, you weren't sure. 

Maybe it was in your head, but you doubted that. 

It was an early Saturday morning, the waters a deep blue around you and the the muffled sound of bubbles produced by the many other teams doing their warmup laps reached your ears as though from a world away. Your head felt clear. There was minimal clumsiness in your body: each time you followed one pointed hand further forward through the water, your fingers felt streamlined and smooth. Your ankles were locked without being forced. No unnecessary flapping: you'd gotten rid of such flaws and bad habits many years ago. 

Twelve teams of between seven and fifteen players doing their warmups. Six teams would be eliminated today. Three more the next. On Monday, the final three teams would decide who earned the first, second and third place. Four quarters of seven minutes per game. 

So much training for a match of less than thirty minutes. Half an hour where everybody had to push themselves, where everything counted. 

You remembered last year: one of your teammates had tried to save the ball and in their exhaustion and desperation, lost first place and left you with second place because she'd touched the side of the pool when falling back down after a failed steal. 

But now it was a new year. That teammate had worked the hardest to make up for her mistake and was now captain. Your arms weren't as long as some of the others' and your build not as impressive, but to make up for that you had finely honed reflexes and could boost yourself up from the water with rarely seen explosiveness. 

Your eggbeater technique, the most basic treading water skill in water polo, had plenty of strength and endurance behind it. 

You were ready. 

Your team was ready. 

The water was good. 

All was good. 

.

"Second place _again_ , I just... what the hell, we almost had it and we, I..." you finally said out loud after a full hour of consoling and assuring the first years together with your captain Rinoka and some of your fellow upperclassmen, sprinkling your prepping with advice. "I mean, we didn't make any huge mistakes and the other team was- was strong, and I guess they deserved the win as well, but I only- Yukkun!" 

"Mmphm?" 

Your breaking point was probably because you were home and had stepped into the kitchen to the sight of your twin eating his lunch at the table. A steaming bowl was already set on your place. You recognized it to be reheated leftovers from yesterday, but it still made your eyes water. Your hair was still wet and left a damp spot on your back, the perpetual whiff of chlorine that stuck to your skin was stronger than usual since you'd been hasty in the showers, and you were still clad in your team's track suit. 

But now, seeing Yuu inhaling his food and the past three days finally behind you, it all sunk in. It was over. 

Exhaustion and tears, that was what you felt. Tired and wet with leaking eyes, and after all the time you'd spent in a pool you wouldn't be surprised if all your colors had been washed away and left you like a liquid-y jelly. You certainly felt like it. 

Yuu swallowed his curry. How he could swallow such a large amount at once was beyond you. "Next time. I know you'll win." 

You sniffled. He sounded so confident, like it was obvious. 

You sat down in front of him and started eating. It tasted wonderfully: hot and full of color and substance and spice. The opposite of how you felt at the moment. You felt puffy and watery and weak and gray. 

"If I'd just been a little faster, I could've stolen or at least blocked more balls," you cried through your food. He nodded, wincing with sympathy. "And Rinoka just kept on smiling at the little firsties on the buss even though some of them- but it wasn't their fault either! We didn't make gross mistakes, we were just... too mediocre, not fast or powerful enough. You know, somebody from the opposing team had such a nightmare throw: strong, fast and stupidly fucking accurate. I just wanted to watch her throw all day, all rippling wet muscles and biceps... a-and then a shattering loss because she's on an other team. But next year, next year! Then I'll have trained hard enough to be able to go that bit further to get my hand on one of her stupidly awesome throws. Just you see. I'll be at the nationals." 

"Working hard is the only thing you can do to make it there. And don't worry 'bout that first year on your team, you've, what, practiced together for three months in total?" Yuu stated, nodding to himself. 

"Two months and three weeks," you corrected, feeling a little better. Poor Sanagi: it couldn't be easy for her, either, feeling out of sync and like a stranger still. "Next time, I swear."

"How could wouldn't it be if we both made it to the nationals this year!? When's you next tournament?" 

You refrained from pointing out that until recently he'd moodily been proclaiming in bouts of teenage angst and rage that he would never play volleyball in Karasuno again but was now happily back on the team and buddy-buddies with Azumane once more. It must've shown on your face, though, because suddenly he flustered and muttered under his breath. 

"After summer," you said vaguely, feeling like that was eons away but also right behind the corner. "Five months away until the Miyagi qualifiers. Your interhigh qualifiers are up soon, aren't they? You've been staying late at practice again. You gotta sleep, Yukkun!" 

He gave you an affronted look. "I sleep plenty! And the hippocampus, you stay late too!" 

"You mean _hypocrisy_." 

"That's what I said, imouto." 

"No you didn- and I'm older than you, bastard." 

"But not bigger," he pointed out, satisfied. 

"Only 'cause you gel your hair like somebody with compensation issues," you fumed, taking another larger bite and giving him a sizzling glare. He flicked some of his rice at you, imitating your voice which meant you got the last word but he didn't want to admit it. " _Otouto_." 

"Fourteen minutes," Yuu said, "I'm _fourteen_ minutes younger. That has to be beneath the it-counts bar."

"What a cliché twin argument, it doesn't change the facts," was your reply. 

Then you remembered that you had slotted into second place once again and that you were meant to be marinating yourself in sadness and frustration. Abruptly, you frowned again, cast your eyes downwards, slumped your shoulders and tried to look as pathetic as possible. 

In a tiny, breakable voice you whispered: "Is there any chocolate?" 

He snorted. "You can't trick me." 

You made yourself even more immaterial. "I feel awful." 

"I'm your _brother_ , not a rando of the streets you can trick into buying you sake." 

It was your turn to flick rice at him. "I don't do that!" 

"Yes you do!" Yuu squawked, "and it's all weird and creepy too!" 

A short food fight and cleanup later, he threw you a bar of chocolate and you gave him a bear hug and made him guacamole (honestly, it was so easy to make: if only he wasn't such a _guy_ and learned how to make it himself). Then you set off to practice, because the swimming pool would still be open for an hour after the swimming team left it. Those who wanted extra practice would often go there. 

"I'm gonna get some extra practice!" You shouted from the hallway, already in your shoes. "Tell kaa-chan and tou-chan!" 

"Tell them yourself!" Yuu yelled back from his room, "they always shoot the messenger!" 

You rushed out of the door, swimming bag slung over a shoulder, before he could rope you into making any commitments concerning communication. On your way down the street you ran into Tanaka who would be visiting your brother, giving him a grin and wave which he returned before barely catching the buss to school. 

The sky was dark by the time you had finished practice, if the last two hours could even count as that. 

Swimming leisured laps to unwind your muscles after some standard passing exercises gave you the time to let your mind wander. Your brain felt heavy in your skull, and in turn your head felt heavy and clumsy on your neck. The water here was a light turquoise due to the lighting: the swimming pool from earlier had been older and a darker blue. 

The water felt light but wouldn't carry you properly. It wasn't as though you were sinking or there were faults in your movements, but you knew it was taking you longer than usual to reach the other wall. Of course you were swimming slowly, and naturally you were tired from the day and didn't apply yourself, but the small effort you were making wasn't showing. 

You couldn't bring yourself to care. 

It meant some more time to yourself and your thought. Thoughts that were everywhere and nowhere at the same time. The forefront of your mind was blank, but the back of your head was swirling with muddled notions and images and questions. 

Would it be the traditional post-tournament dinner at home? You hoped so. Tempura was so nice even if it was a bit unhealthy. Post-tournament, post-tournament... (It wouldn't have been if you'd won.) 

How far could that ace from the other team throw without losing force or accuracy? Pretty far, it had seemed. It was terrifying and beautiful all at once. The only thing you'd outclassed her with was your agility in the water when it came to close quarters. Your explosiveness still lost to her size, but only barely. 

How nice the familiar turquoise underwater lights were, so soothing and fresh and familiar. It was such a nice color. It was so clear and itself without being overbearing. 

Should you buy a new conditioner? Your hair was starting to get dry and you quite liked having soft, shiny hair to fluff up and toss over your shoulder. There was a conditioner that had smelled of honey and sweet nuts without crossing the border into icky syrupy smells. 

How was Rinoka doing? She must be devastated but also so determined despite not having shown up this evening. Not that she had to, since this was voluntary and hadn't been discussed on beforehand. And little Sanagi, hopefully she wasn't feeling to be for any misses: she'd worked so hard the past two hours, barely stopping with the drills. 

Your hand touched the wall, and you pushed back off to swim a final lap. 

_How am I doing?_

You swam faster.

Yuu would've told your parents, so your mother had probably started dinner late with your swimming habits in mind.

You switched from breaststroke to front crawl. This wasn't going to be your final lap after all.

Your boosts out of the water to intercept a ball or throw it over the others' heads had lost power and height due to your fatigue. It had been a tough game. You should be able to do your high and sudden boosts continuously. 

Once you'd reached the other end you paused, readjusting your swimming goggles and calling out: "Oi, first years! It's time to stop the three on three and do your cool down laps! You've all worked your asses off and need some rest, you've had an amazing start and there's no need for anybody getting burnouts when we're only getting started!" 

Sanagi and her friends shot you wide-eyed looks before turning to the ball bin next to the trampoline and throwing their balls into it. Two of the six missed, rolling across the tiles before coming to a standstill close to the side of the pool. You resumed your swimming, starting with a slow front crawls and gradually speeding up until, by then end of the lap, you were sprinting. After your tumble turn, you did the same again, starting slow but going faster and faster. 

Soon, the firsties -after another stern look from your side- left the pool, shivering slightly. 

"Er, senpai," Sanagi started before disappearing off to the showers, "don't stay too late." 

Your snorted at the idea. "Dinner’s almost ready, so 'course not." 

She left. You continued to swim, switching to doing half a lap under the water with dolphin movements and the second half with backstroke. 

Holding your breath in the pale green-blue light, feeling weightless even when your chest constricted with longing for oxygen, felt liberating. There were only two other people left: two guys from the swimming team. 

It took another fifteen minutes for your empty stomach to convince your brain it was time to go. The final push was a glance at the clock, and with a look around you to see if the two guys were the fussy type for rules, removed your goggles and swimming cap even though swimming with one’s hair loose was prohibited. 

A sigh of relief, and a dip of you head beneath the water. Feeling your hair float around you and scalp be soothed by the water felt lovely, freeing. 

You started cooling down (again). The first lap was a slow, lazy breaststroke, but then a familiar pull from the sinews of your knees started making itself known again. A slight, protesting pressure against the inside of your knees, one which you knew would soon appear at a point on the outer side of your knees as well and eventually start tugging at the muscles of your thighs. 

Before that could happen, you switched to a lazy front crawl. 

You smiled at the feeling of your hair flowing behind your in the water. Your eyes were used to squinting through the chlorine from time to time. 

The water was light. 

You almost felt light, too. 

.

"So close," your mother kept smiling, squeezing your shoulder when passing by, your hand when handing you something, your cheek when you rolled your eyes. "So close. I'm sure it was a good match." 

"Game," you corrected Hisae absently, "pass me the rice, please." 

You refilled your plate. You were eating extra many tempuras, but nobody had pointed that out yet. It wouldn't matter if they did: you did enough sports that those comments about _a girl watching her figure_ shouldn't be thrown at you in the first place. Aside from needing good portions, you also figured you deserved it this time. 

(Girly figure? Your mother made sure you remembered that and knew what parts of you were pretty and feminine and good.) 

"I think just getting so far in the first place is an achievement," stated your mother, and the earnestness of it made your stomach roll. "You should be happy." 

No ambition to spare for you, never you. 

Yuu intervened, and although he was the first to scold a teammate this was _Hisae_. She could revoke dessert rights since she cooked. "Were there many at the pool this afternoon?" 

"Half of the team," you said after swallowing another bite.

Your dad refilled his glass of water, nodding to himself much like Yuu could do but with more maturity. "That's a decent amount. It says good things about the team." 

You caught yourself smiling at him: Ayato wasn't graying, his brown hair was simply going white, his eyes were tired with the workload and beneath his moustache he had a friendly smile. 

"I think so too. You know, those first years are really hardworking and two of them show a lot of promise. Especially one, Sanagi, she works really hard." 

"Yeah same!" Yuu burst out, radiant. "We've got some really good first years! One is totally awesome and wants to be ace, so Asahi better stop wimping out, his name is Shouyou - Hinata- and he works so well with the new setter that it's almost crazy."

"Kageyama, right?" Hisae checked, doting eyes on her son. 

"Yeah. Anyway, his tosses are apparently amazing- they sure look it, anyway. So accurate, and Shouyou hits them like _whpam_." 

"That's great," your mother smiled. "You've got a tournament coming up, don't you?" 

He nodded, speaking through a mouthful: "Yep, three more weeks and then it's go time. Can't wait."

"Practice hard," you said. Your eyes strayed to the glass pitcher of water. Clear, cold, beautiful. 

"You too," he laughed, "make sure you get your revenge." 

"I-"

"Revenge has always sounded like such an aggressive word," your mother shook her head. "Is there anything you need?" 

"Extra protein, low fat bentos," Yuu told her, as always. Then he took another impossibly large bite. 

"I'd like some of that, too," you told her even though you doubted yours could get much more non-fatty. 

"What you need is more cucumber, it's great for the skin," Hisae chuckled mirthfully, "all that chlorine is making your forehead dry, honey." 

You tried to laugh at her joke and shove away the anxiety about moisturizers and wearing a necklace or a hairstyle that wouldn't draw attention to your face. As your mother probed your brother -who was starting to look annoyed that he couldn't inhale his food like he wanted- for more information about his tournament and team and volleyball rules. (You doubted your mother even knew the different positions in water polo.) 

Your father quietly passed you the tempura. His smile was mild. 

"Good luck next time," he murmured, and you had the feeling that he would transfer a small sum of money for you to buy yourself a pastry this weekend without having to use money you were saving for your many shopping trips and weekends with friends. 

"I'll keep your games in mind for dinners as well," Hisae beamed, mentally already in her recipe books, "and I'm sure I can add something for breakfasts next time I go to the store..." 

"Thanks," Yuu nodded and immersed himself in his plate before she could ask anything else. Beneath the table, you felt him press something into your hand. Without glancing down, you knew it was the earrings you'd lost this morning in your rush to leave for the competition. 

You slipped them into your pocket.

Hisae finally noticed your third refill. "Quite the appetite, huh?" 

She smiled, but you'd already spotted her sigh. 

(She also sighed whenever you went shopping for new clothes, because _goodness, your shoulders are getting quite wide, aren't they, be careful with that swimming_ , or you wore a dress from last year because _your hips look lovely in it, but don't you think your thighs are becoming a bit wide_ , and similar innocent little things that made you want to throw the dish rag she would hand you after dinner into her face. Instead you'd smile a pretty smile and try to smooth talk your way out of it with promises of studying. Half of the times it even worked.) 

(And after every comment she herself didn't notice there would always be a compliment about your waist being tiny or hair looking shiny or smile being lovely, as though that changed anything.) 

Soon, dinner was over and Hisae stood in front of the sink again. Without looking up from the dishwashing liquid she was pouring into the hot water, she stretched her arm out toward you. The dishrag was in her hand. 

The pitcher you were carrying into the kitchen was empty. Standing up after dinner made you realize that you'd eaten quite a lot and that your knees were tired. Your right shoulder, too. Your could hear Yuu and Ayato talk as they switched on the TV. They never had to wash up. 

"I'm going going to the supermarket tomorrow," your mother was saying, "I was thinking of something middle eastern, for a change. Spicy is no good for volleyball, right?" 

You put the pitcher away. 

_I'm terribly sorry, I neglected my studies training for the tournament I just lost so I can’t help tonight-_

_I'm terribly sorry, I'm afraid I can't help much since I have been staying late at practice and therefore not done much school work_ \- 

The words didn't reach you tongue. You felt tired. You just wanted to stretch, to sleep. 

(To float.) 

"Not too spicy, no," you said, accepting the dish rag. She’d never changed dinners for your tournaments. 

.

"Hey, Nishin-chan, think you can make it?" 

Your friends gave you expectant looks, smiling excitedly with glittering stares and keychain-heavy phones and great ideas for a girls night with _Grease_ and lots of cheap wine. Everybody had clustered in the hallway: a gaggle of giggling girls with shorts skirts and vivacious smiles and hopeful eyes. 

"Friday evenings are post-practice meetings," you reminded, and all of them nodded and looked apologetic. 

"Right, sorry, forgot," one said, wincing. 

"We'll remembered next time," an other promised. 

You shook your head, thick hair flying. "Nah, don't worry about it. Maybe I can come later instead, but I'll probably be tired." 

Your best friend, Rei, proposed: "Or we could do it on Saturday?" 

"No, I can't then, I've got dancing classes." 

"Me too." 

"And I'm studying for a test on Monday..." 

"Sorry, Nishin-chan." 

It was an old conversation, one you almost knew by heart. You'd find an other time to go out with them. (Most of the times they remembered by now, anyway.) 

(You wondered what it was like. You'd had your tastes of it, a rare free Friday here, an odd Saturday here, a random day during a holiday: once you'd ended up on the streets, trying to bike to a night shop with the others only to realize it was closed since it was two in the morning, and an other time you'd locked lips with Rei.) 

"I can't wait, though," the host girl grinned sweetly, "by the time we get to the _Greased Lightnin'_ song everybody will be tipsy enough to sing along so loudly..." 

"In sucky English." 

You laughed at the mental image. "Sounds great."

Then the bell rung and everybody scattered away to resume their classes. Halfway into your English class (and halfway into your sketch of climbing flowers), your attention was drawn even more from your schoolbooks than it already was, fastening onto a few figures on the school yard. 

First years. They were skipping, you were sure, because everybody was meant to be in class right now, even if a teacher was sick. Leaving school due to a teacher's absence was only permitted for the last hour. 

They seemed to be laughing, their distant, tiny faces hard to make out through the window. (Yes, you sat in the window seat at the back, there was nothing wrong with dreaming about being a shoujou character every now and then.) 

(Dreaming about being cherished.) 

(About being important.) 

.

You'd tried dating, once. It had been in your second year of middle school, and the two of you never even kissed. You'd liked the idea of being in a relationship and he'd like the idea of having a pretty girlfriend. It'd been innocent and foolish, filled with cute ideals none of your spoke of but assumed the other shared. 

You told yourself you weren’t giving up on your own ideals and values and dignity, _you were just trying to do things like they should be done_. So you started getting up early to make him bentos. Your mother had been overjoyed but also worried -because it was a _boy_ \- and sprinkled your new morning conversations in the kitchen with advice, anecdotes and funny stories. 

It had been nice. 

At first. 

Your boyfriend had been surprised when you showed up with a lunch for him one day, something he hadn't dared to ask for since you were so (in his words) touchy and snappy about subject like the (now in your words) kawaii bento/worshipping girl culture. 

He'd smiled, you'd grinned, both laughed and hugged. 

You came with a bento the next day as well, and the following, and the day after that. Every time he looked even more surprised and pleased, so _pleased_ , and you poked his cheek and warned him that he'd trip over his own ego soon. 

The bentos kept on coming. You had to get up early now, because your middle school water polo tournament was coming up and morning practices were now a thing. He’d compliment you for your effort and even watched one of your practices. 

Soon, you had made enough bentos for them to be almost as beautiful as Hisae's. Your boyfriend had long since stopped bringing his own lunches. The two of you had never discussed it, but his food had become your responsibility. 

After the tournament was over, you'd said you were tired. 

He took you to a cinema and pecked your cheek. You stared emptily at the screen and didn't turn your head to let him kiss you properly. The movie was insipid, but you didn't avert your stare. He'd chosen it since he was paying. 

The idea of you paying had been brushed off. 

Having a boyfriend was starting to get tiring. At first you told yourself it was the early mornings, but soon realized that everything about him tired you out. He was involved in a club as well and until your pre-tournament practices had become too intense, you'd watched him play baseball every now and then. 

Now he wanted you to watch him more often, like his teammates' girlfriends did. 

You snapped at him and he scowled and then he bought you tea as an apology, and soon you felt guilty and like a bad girlfriend. You watched him play two more times. You made him two more bentos. You let him give you two more pecks on your cheeks and withstood two more demanding stares when you refused to turn your head. 

Then you looked in the mirror and wondered who the girl staring back was. 

Parts of her, you liked: the pretty hair and clothing style, making glances linger on you. (Like you were important.) 

Most of her, you despised. So weak, so typical, so little free will, so stupid. (That wasn't you, it had never been you.)

So you marched into school the way you'd used to do, fluffed your hair like you'd learned to do, and broke up with him without batting an eye. 

You hadn't made him a bento, of course. He hadn't brought any lunch. 

You told him to solve it himself, because _I'm dead tired of being a girlfriend_. 

.

"Sorry, can't do that, I'm probably gonna stay longer as well," Yuu shook his head when you asked him to tell your parents you were staying longer at the pool.

This, the two of you realized, was a problem. Now you had to tell Hisae that both her of her kids would be running late. You stalled at the school gates. The volleyball gym was behind him, but he abstained from running there right away. 

"I'll text kaa-chan if you make me guacamole tonight," he finally bargained. It always came across better if Yuu was the one to inform your parents that the two of you were staying longer, even he knew that. 

"Deal," you said, "but this is the last time. I'm giving you the recipe." 

He looked skeptical. "I'm shit at cooking." 

"Don't be stupid, it's guacamole. Guacamole is easy, you can't even burn it." 

"Watch me," he muttered, but he was already typing on his phone. Moments later he put it back into his pocket. "Done. Good luck today!" 

"You too, Yukkun," you grinned, punching his shoulder and avoiding his retaliating tackle. Then the two of you were off to practice. 

"I'll wait for you afterward!" Yuu called out behind you.

"Thanks!"

Then you entered the swimming hall, breathing in the warm air and scent of chlorine with a blissful smile. 

"Nishinoya-senpai!" Sanagi greeted, spearheading the first years. Rinoka quickly counted heads, then announced: 

"Everyone's here, let's go to the changing room! C'mon, no stragglers!" 

Minutes later, your hair was gathered beneath a swimming cap, your goggles were on and you were adjusting the straps of your swimming suit, waiting for the others to arrive to begin warmups. 

Practice was over soon, but you stayed longer with Rinoka and Sanagi and three others to do some three on three. Your eggbeater wasn't keeping you as high above the surface as it should, and your final boost to throw the ball was low enough for Sanagi -whose blocks were mediocre at best- to intercept with ease. She looked overjoyed before passing to a teammate who then scored. 

You still won the game, though. 

"Make sure you all stretch as well, it's been an intense month and we're still practicing hard as ever," the coach called out as everybody started their cool down. "Sanagi, no butterfly stroke, don't be stupid, that's far too tiring for cool downs. And you there, get going, letting your muscles relax is important. Nishinoya, no front crawl, do something more relaxing." 

You tried breaststroke the first lap. What had once been easy, effortless, the ultimate casual swim, didn't feel nice at all. You knew your movements in the water were as graceful as ever, but it didn't feel like it. They felt stilted. Your legs didn't want to do what they should. Your knees ached. 

You switched to backstroke. You had an aversion to it since it meant you couldn't see where you were going, but the coach had stayed longer as well this time and you didn't want to upset her. 

Your protesting knees stayed in your mind, though, even when you joined up with Yuu outside. It wasn't very cold anymore, the late May evening lukewarm against your cheeks and moist hair which, as always, as leaving a damp patch on the back of your jacket. 

"I think I'm going to go home on time this week," you settled for, "and get some rest this weekend." 

Yuu gave you a searching look. "Did you swallow too much pool water again?" 

"No," you bristled, "did you get knocked on the head with a serve?" 

"No, 'cause I managed to dig them first," he retorted, puffing up. "Shorty." 

"Ant." 

" _Amoeba_." 

"You sure your brain can handle such words? Not too long ago you said hippocampus instead of hypocrisy." 

Yuu went red and squawky and started rattling off excuses at an increasingly loud volume. You cut him off by waving and saying, "hey, Shimizu-san." 

Shimizu Kiyoko was walking toward the two of you together with Sawamura, Suga and Azumane. 

He went dead quiet and was suddenly smiling winningly. Or at least what he considered to be winningly. "Hello Kiyoko-san want me to walk you home because there are weirdos-" 

"No thanks," she said. Sawamura and Suga sighed at the old scene. 

"Don't be a weirdo," you scowled, digging your elbow into his ribs. He wheezed, doubling over. 

"Are you tryna kill me, woman!?" 

You took that to mean you were stronger than he'd thought. "Naww, is big sister being rough on her itty bitty brother?" 

This time, you couldn't avoid him when he pounced on you. Your knees buckled under his weight but stayed strong, ensuring you kept your balance with your twin on your back. Tanaka and Ennoshita joined the group as well, followed by two vaguely familiar first years you'd glimpsed in the hallways or when passing by Yuu's practices. 

"It's Nishinoya-senpai's sister," the ginger exclaimed, gaze zapping from one twin to the other. He was short, had wide brown eyes and an elfish build. He was also leading his bike next to him. 

"Their eyes are kind of similar," the dark haired one said, vaguely disinterested. Contrary to his friend, he was tall with sharp blue eyes and the looks of a volleyball player, all long limbs and muscles. "Oi, don't stare!" 

Abruptly he -judging by the actions, it was the Kageyama Yuu had told you about so often- whacked the tiny ginger's -therefore Hinata- head. Hinata whined at first, but then started snipping at Kageyama for being rude and aggressive, earning him another whack which he this time ducked under. 

Everybody started down the road, except for your brother who stayed on your back like a monkey and got a piggy back ride. 

"Oh, hey, if you're not gonna stay longer at practices anymore you should watch us at some point!" He perked up. "Kiyoko-san works so hard and could need come help every now and then, and she smiles more when you're around!" 

"That's because I'm not-" 

"YEAH!" Tanaka agreed vehemently, "stop by at practice!" 

Kiyoko in question seemed to smother both a smile and a sigh. "You're free to come by if it suits you, but don't worry. I can handle things." 

"So come!" Yuu implored. 

Yuu tightened his grip on your shoulders and you were forced to concede. "Fine, I'll stop by every now and then." 

The road started sloping gently downwards and carrying Yuu became more difficult. Your back and arms could take it, but even though your legs were doing fine you could feel some kind of painless, yet ominous, warning in your joints. Within moment he slid off your back and with a grin you jumped onto his instead. 

"Heavy!" 

"No I'm not," you denied, even though it was a bit of a lie. Muscles weighed plenty, and maybe your mother had a point about your thighs. They were mostly muscle but there was that slight softness you just couldn't seem to get rid of. 

He pretended to fall, righting himself at the last moment. It was your turn to retaliate by tightening your grip. 

"...and we'll get to go up against the Great King!" Hinata was cheering, looking determined and waving his hands around. "Y'know, sometimes he reminds me of Hisoka and that means we have to beat him even more!" 

"His-who?" Kageyama asked, squinting and looking mildly terrifying. 

"Only a weird clown antagonist from an anime," Suga shrugged, frowning. "And I'm glad to say they're _not_ that similar." 

"I'd hope so," you laughed, "Hisoka's creepy. Great, but absolutely creepy." 

"Anyway," Hinata went on, unbothered, "Seijou better watch out, Karasuno is gonna _fly_." 

You wondered who that Great King was, because you didn't want Hisoka's face to pop up in your head every time Yuu mentioned the tournament. 

"Oikawa is a good captain to a good team, it's that simple," Sawamura had said as though he'd heard your thoughts, "and to beat Aoba Johsai, we have to be just as great. All we can do is practice."

"Aoba Johsai and Seijou are the same thing, right?" You double checked. Kageyama and Suga nodded. 

"They're strong," Azumane said, looking a little pale. "And Oikawa is really strong, too." 

"But not unbeatable!" Tanaka insisted, "the pretty boy has weaknesses and so does Seijou!" 

Pretty boy-Hisoka-great team-Seijou was forming odd combinations and images in your head. 

"Any team does," you and Yuu chorused. 

"They spoke at the same time!" Hinata fawned, earning a tirade from Yuu and a snooty glare from yourself. The door to a closed shop opened, the bleached blond young owner appearing in the doorway with a roar:

"Volleyball team! Take your arguments elsewhere!" 

The he closed the door again, shutting out Suga's and Sawamura's apologies. Yuu laughed, accidentally letting go of you which resulted in your unfortunate fall to the ground. 

"Nishin-san!" Azumane fretted, panicked. 

"Yukkun!" You hissed angrily, getting to your feet and brushing yourself off. "See if I ever make you guacamole again." 

.

It turned out that you would get a chance to see the Seijou team earlier than you thought, because only a few days later your phone lit up with texts from a middle school friend. 

_heyyy Nishin-chan_

_it's my bday on Saturday and it'd be great if u could come_

_there'll be quite a lot of ppl just saying and the dress code is casual-nice_

_if that makes sense idk haha_

You smiled at the prospect of actually being able to make it somewhere. You'd even kept your weekend practice-free to make sure your joints got some rest, so you wouldn't be missing out on the weightless feeling and turquoise lights. 

_I'd love to come^^_

_When and where?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've said it before, but to avoid confusion I'll avoid going into detail about water polo, whether it's the rules or writing a game (which will then not be longer than a few summarizing sentences). 
> 
> "Nishin" also means good, to do good or be good.


End file.
